


Christmas in Mirkwood

by 2Loverz



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Christmas, Cute, Elfling Legolas melts Thranduil's heart, Feren is a good friend to Thranduil, Gen, Thranduil is a ball of fluff, Thranduil totally deserves a 'best daddy' award, christmas in Mirkwood, hope I didn't overdo the cute, so much cute, whether there is more between Thranduil and Feren is open for own interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Loverz/pseuds/2Loverz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I suck at summaries...originally this story was written last christmas (no there is no horrible pun intended) and supposed to be a quick one shot about Thranduil and Legolas celebrating christmas, and well, the plotbunny crept up on me and I kept adding things and it got a bit deeper than that, with some flashbacks and sad moments, but overall it's just a look at the special connection Thranduil has with his son and their annual christmas ritual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas in Mirkwood

**Author's Note:**

> This story is un-beta'ed, so shall you find typos or grammar errors, feel free to return them. Otherwise enjoy the (hopefully good read)
> 
> Disclaimer: none of this really happened (at least I think they don't know what christmas is, so...)
> 
> Disowner: own neither Thranduil, nor Legolas, nor Feren not any other mentioned elf and probably will never...

Christmas was always a special holiday for the king and his son. They would decorate together and unwrap gifts together, that is Legolas would unwrap his gifts. Thranduil would just sit there and bath in his son's joy over all the gifts. Also the king would always make that there won't be any interruptions, these days beloong solely to him and his son. Sometimes he wondered who was more eager for it, him or his son. And if it was him it only was because the joy and happiness this festivity brought to little Legolas.

 

His eyes would shine and his smile so bright not even the biggest diamond could match. Nothing could match when it came to his son.  

 

He is his joy.  
His light.  
The reason of his being.  
The reason he's still on arda.

 

He is his _everything_.

 _Everything_ that he has.

 _Everything_ that matters to him.

 

That is precisely why Thranduil leaves no opportunity unused to spoil his son to no end. Some certainly might think he's overdoing it, spoiling him rotten, so he would eventually end up being an arrogant brat, because he always got everything he desired from his father, without having to ask twice, and also it is not to suggest to handle the prince of Mirkwood with such care. He was still an elfling Thranduil shook his head at the mere thought of it. No matter what others might or might not think, he's king and raising his only child is noone's matter but his own, needless to say, he won't let anybody tell him how to raise his son. He is a good father, he teaches his son well, and everything his own father taught him.

 

Oropher was a good king, just as Thranduil is a good king now and Legolas will make a good king also, someday. A scenario Thranduil's mind does not like explore any further, if he's perfectly honest.

  
But contrary to his father, Thranduil was the only parent his little leaf had left, and raising Legolas all by himself it wasn't always easy, even though he wasn't a baby anymore when his wife died. When that happened, it also was the hardest time for both, father and son. Legolas often asked for his nana, but was still too small to understand what had happened, but he understood that his nana would not come back. Everytime Thranduil had to tell his son this his heart broke all over again- he could deal with his own sorrow, learned to deal with it, but there was nothing he could about the pain his son must feel knowing he would never see his mother again.  His eyes, the shiny tears in them when he was old enough to understand were hunting Thranduil in his dreams.

  
The first couple of years after his wife's death, Thranduil thought he would fade, he missed his wife just so much. She was his second half, his soul, the missing piece to make his life whole and the fact that she gave him a wonderful son made him all the more proud of his little family. She was his soul, he thought he would never be able to live without, but then there also was his little son who he was responsible for -now all by himself- who gave him so much joy in all the dark days. At times he was literally the only purpose for Thranduil still being alive, a thing that would become clearly the more time passed. He knew his little elfling would be lost without him, he relied on his father, he couldn't just fade away on him, no matter how much he missed his wife. The more the years went on the more Thranduil was sure his wife wouldn't have wanted their son to grow up without his parents. Growing up without his mother was bad enough, he knew she wouldn't want him to make him grow up without his father as well. And as much as Legolas would be lost without Thranduil, Thranduil was as lost without his son.

 

So, it was not seldom that both of them would lie in the king's big bed, because Legolas just came once again to his father's chamber, driven by his fear for monsters under his bed. Thranduil was never one to send his son away, he always would let his son climb in his bed and just softly hold him, protect him from everything vile and evil. These are also moments when his mind wanders off and he wonders how things would be if his wife was still alive, if Legolas would have a brother or a sister or perhaps even twins. He sighed, allowing his mind to walk down that path; each time he thinks about it, it drives tears into his eyes. Instinctively he would hold his son that much tighter, never wanting to let him go. Silently promising him to protect him with his life if necessary. A lonely, single tear rolled down his cheek and he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Thranduil often thinks back at these times, but not only with sad eyes, watching his little leaf grow up brought so much fun and joy to his life, and he can't help shower him with love and fulfill his every wish. He lets no opportunity unused to show Legolas how much he means to him and then can always come to his father no matter with what and what time, he's never to busy for him. Nor does he deny his son anything that makes him happy,  even if it means switching his mighty crown with a red-white hat and his regal robes with an equally red-white colored Santa coat.

 

_The same procedure as every year!_

 

"You think santa was already here?" excited blue eyes were looking up at the king; the small elfling on his lap clearly fidgeting, impatient to see what he would get this year, but also a little sad if he had missed getting a glimpse of him. Of Santa. So it was every year, he always managed to get a glimpse of him, which always left him equally excited and curious. Thranduil had no idea if his son knew who was dressed as Santa, or if he knew whether he is real or not, but he had an idea that his son knew that already. However, he never let anything on and who was Thranduil to be the one and spoil that for him? No, the little bundle of joy, Legolas always turned into during the christmas season made it impossible for Thranduil to drop that bomb.

 

Thranduil chuckled, his son truly is too adorable when he is all excited about something. "But, ion nîn, it's not time for that yet. He will bring your gifts at night so you can unwrap them first thing in the morning", he calmly told his son, smile on his lips as well as in his voice.

 

"Ok, ada," Legolas smiled up at his father, then gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he jumped off his lap and left to do something to make the time go by faster, Thranduil was sure of that. He knew his son  better than anybody. Of course he  does. Enchanted he watched his son leave.

 

While his son was busy running around and playing in the garden the king made his way to the royal chambers, he still had to get a few things ready for the evening for he knew his son would occasionally leave his room to peak his little head around the corner to see if he can get an eyeful of Santa; and tell his father about it later. His voice close to squeaking, almost tipping over from enthusiasm and giddiness. And this year it shall be no different. Thranduil knew about that. Did he always make sure his little leaf would 'catch' him.

 

It was a few hours later as one of his confidants approached him just as he was about to go for a quick check if his son was sound asleep, or at pretended to be asleep- he was not certain which of the two it was. And it did not matter.

 

"My lord," the guard hastily bowed and couldn't hold back the tiny smile on his lips.

 

A little glad he didn't walk past him all dressed up Thranduil greeted him friendly, "Good evening," and asked what he was doing awake at this time of the night, clearly remembering he had dismissed him earlier for the rest of the evening, as well as any other guard that would normally stand post near his chambers, or the room he would be set up the gifts later.

 

"I...erm...my lord," he stammered and knew instantly Thranduil would know why he was here, near the king'schambers at this time, at this day much less. People talk, news travel fast and this is no different with elves and in Mirkwood, and so it didn't take long for someone to hear about the king's dress-up for this particular occasion every year on this day. Naturally, this made rounds rather fast. Thranduil figured this must be a sight many would like to see, members of his staff included.  And he couldn't blame them. So, all he did was giving the younger elf a knowing smile and look before he excused himself to his chambers; remembering the guard that he would see him in the morning was hint enough for the other to know he better not show up here again for the night.

 

Trying to not let it show in his face he dutifully bowed and bid his king a good night, before he hastily turned on his heels and almost fled. Laughing to himself Thranduil retreated to his room to resume his task of preparing a few more things before he would go and set everything up for the next day.

 

Legolas all the while was indeed sound asleep in his room, with a plush elf clutched between his arms, he was dreaming of Santa visiting him. The plush elf was a gift from his father a few years ago, for he know his son was just as fascinated by his own -and very one real at that- elk Thranduil owned.

 

"Yes, when you are old enough, I will take you on a ride with my elk, but for now this will have to do," the king smiled and held a rather large plush elk in front of his son, who giddily took a hold of it as if it was the most precious gift he has ever received. But then, he always saw Thranduil gifts as something special and precious.

 

All dressed up the king quietly pushed down the handle of the door to his chambers and stuck his head out to see if anybody else was curious enough to really wander around past midnight to see Santa. He was close to giggling  to himself as he thought about how he sneaked around in his own realm. In a red white Santa costume. There might be not much the king was shy about, and he most definitely was not embarrassed to admit he's playing Santa for his son, however he still was king of Mirkwood and therefor he'd rather keep the sight of that among himself and the few people who already had caught him, which always was a rather fun moment for both parties and ended in him being told how a great father he is, going to this distance for his son.

 

"I can't do any different, he's all I've got," he would tell them, with the biggest smile. Despite Thranduil being said to be a cold and hard king, he was the complete opposite when it came to Legolas. Cold and hard were the last words that came to mind when describing how he was when his son was around. Not one single soul dared to claim otherwise. He was a loving and caring father, perhaps sometimes even overly caring.  But who could blame him for that though? After all he has been though he wanted to do all in his power to keep his son -his everything- safe, or as safe as he could be in Mirkwood.

 

He had an extra room that would be prepared for christmas and he preferably did that himself. He didn't want a servant to do that, he was always very specific about that, and since a few years his son would join him and together they would decorate the room. He would be lying when he didn't say this was always a very special father-son moment for him. They adorned the room mostly exactly to Legolas' liking, and the young prince knew exactly what he wanted the room to look like and how to direct his father, Thranduil thought more than once just as Legolas would tell him yet again "No, ada, there. See that looks much better", clearly pleased with himself. He ruffled his son's hair and did as his son instructed.

 

When he now entered the room he looked around once more to check if he was alone, he wasn't paranoid he just liked to make sure. He then walked closer to the spot where he would place the presents for his son and would carefully set them on the ground. When only a few minutes later, just as he was about to rise, he heard a rustle from some way behind him; it was very quiet but elves had good ears, it was easy for him to immediately know he wasn't alone. And he knew exactly who was there behind him, trying his best to make no sound, yet making this one tiny sound that let him know he was there. Purposely he resumed in his squatted position, knowing that this would entice the elf hiding in the shadows to come closer and take a better look. He wouldn't reveal himself or reveal that he knows there is someone, he just wanted to build the excitement he knew said elf would feel rising inside him. When he heard a little gasp followed by another rustle he was sure they would've seen everything they wanted. Waiting another moment he made sure he was alone again and the little spy retreat and left the room. The tiniest sound of little feet hastily running down the hall let him know when it was safe to leave the scene.

 

Giving the way he lovingly put the presents for his son around a large tree one last glance over he then made his back to his chambers.  Arriving there he would shed himself of his dress-up clothes, put them away where they wouldn't be found- especially not by the one who just had secretly eyed him downstairs. He's had a stressful day and he was tired, also did he know his son would be here early to wake him to go and open his presents; a bath still sounded too tempting despite the late hour.  He sighed giving in the urge to help his body relax and begun to draw himself a bath.  Whilst the tub was running full with hot water he got rid of the rest of his clothes, meaning his undergarments. Heavy steam slowly surrounding him. Lowering himself into the tub a heavy sigh left his lips; the warm water clearly a treat for his aching bones and aching body. I'm getting old run though his mind and he laughed quietly to himself, knowing many would disagree. He was quite young for an elf.    
  
  
  
The water felt so good he had to be careful to not fall asleep, he was close to past caring whether or not one of his servants would find him fallen asleep in the bathtub. He just wanted to indulge in this quiet moment for himself for a little while longer. With his head leaned back and his eyes closed he let the sensation wash over him.  


 

Shortly before he felt like drifting off though, he rose and stepped out of the bathtub. Due to the rather large difference of temperatures between the water and bathroom itself his body was literally steaming, nonetheless he didn't feel cold. Only mere moments later he walked into his bedroom, where he quickly slipped into his night gown. He peeled off the duvet before lying down onto the soft bed , another sigh felt his lips- he really was in need of some sleep.  Wrapped up in a cozy blanket it wasn't long before sleep caught up on and pulled him in.  
  
  
  
It was only a few hours later as he heard a voice, then a slight dip on his bed. He had to concentrate real hard not to smile. Knowing it was his son here to wake him up. It is not usually Legolas' task to wake the king up, but on special occasions Thranduil had little choice in that matter. Legolas lightly shook a still pretending-to-be-asleep Thranduil's shoulder in attempt to make him stir and wake up. For a prince the little elf could be pretty impatient if he wanted to be, clearly not a treat he got from his father, who always was the personification of the meaning of utter patience -and not rarely reminded him how important patience is- much to his son's frustration, right now yet again- breathing even as if sound asleep Thranduil just wouldn't show any kind of reaction.

 

“Adaaaa,” Legolas whined not much longer after he was close to jumping up and down his bed; anything to get his father to wake up, it was an important day after all. Legolas, however, decided against it after remembering the last time he did that; his father was everything but happy about that.

 

“Legolas Thranduilion,” he begun, voice calm, but still stern enough to make his son listen. Then when he had his son's full and earnest attention his features softened, “this is not something a prince does, jumping on furniture, besides”, he smiled at his son,” I do not want you to hurt yourself,” Legolas lowered his gaze and nodded.

 

That one time was enough to have him remember to not even think about doing it again, ever. So, when Thranduil shuffled around Legolas would just follow the motion and walk around the bed, so his father would face him, and eventually wake up from being stared at, or so Legolas had hoped. But that didn't happen for another good five minutes and more shuffling and walking around too place. Really, it was an endearing sight. Thranduil inwardly smiled, he knows his Legolas would get annoyed soon, and surely consider other ways to have him rise. Deciding that he stretched the little one's patience enough and just when he heard him let out a rather loud huff of frustration he slowly blinked his eyes open. His son was on his bed with his face hovering above his in no time.

 

“Aha, you're awake, ada・ he let out in an excited squeak, can we now go and see what santa brought me? Can we, can we?・ his son's patience has left the building for good, his excitment clearly beyond all borders. Thranduil just smiled at his son, and pulled him into a hug, Legolas going willingly to return the embrace.

 

“You think we can go and see what Santa brought him?” Thranduil asked looking Feren who accompanied his son from his own room the royal chambers of his father and now had also entered the room once he heard them speak. It was only a short way, but still, Feren was responsible for Legolas when Thranduil was not around, and that included following him to his father's chambers.

 

Feren knows the proceedure of this day by heart and it made his own heart melt a little.  Feren was more than just Legolas' babysitter though, he was a good and old friend of Thranduil. He was here when all the sadness in Thranduil's life took place; he saw Thranduil lose his wife, he saw Legolas grow up, he saw Thranduil raise Legolas all by himself and with that he saw the life return to his king. Yes, he would dare and say he knows more about Thranduil then anyone else, and this goes both ways- nobody knows him better than Thranduil. When they were younger they would often sit together and talk, sadly, when the position of the king was literally thrown at Thranduil from one day to another these talk had become a very rare occasion, not less important though. Whenever Thranduil could afford it he would make time and spend hours just talking with his friend; at times he would literally pour his heart out, feeling save enough to let Feren see this side of him, knowing he is in no danger of being judged or looked weirdly at. Legolas often was a topic, and even if his sense of protection for the little one could never match Thranduil's -not that anyone would be able to care more Legolas than Thranduil did- he cared deeply for the offspring. Smiling he held out a hand which Legolas took and jumped off the bed, “My lord,” he bowed and motioned for the door.

 

“I will be following you two right away, right after I followed nature's call,” his voice half a laugh. He then rose from the bed and quickly made his way to the bathroom to change into his daily robes and take care of said call before he followed them down the long corridor and down to the stairs.

 

Legolas already was waiting, moving from one feed to another. “Did he run again?”, Thranduil questioned laughing, already knowing the answer.

 

 

“Yes, I did,” Legolas quickly answered ignoring that the question wasn't addressed to him and before his father could say anything else Legolas grabbed for his hand and practically dragged him into the room; so fast the king barely could turn to Feren, dismissing him courtly, “this would be all for now, Feren, I think I am able to handle this part alone,” he ruffled Legolas' hair and kind-of winked at his friend, “I will call for you if I need you again.”

 

With a respectful nod and another smile he turned and left father and son alone, closing the door behind himself.

 

Suddenly all nervous Legolas took slow steps towards the area where the presents were spread on the floor. He grinned broadly as he saw several of them, all in different sizes and shapes; that had him guessing what might be hiding underneath the beautiful wrapping materials. Thranduil was a few steps behind him,just letting his son rumage around and see what he would pick first. Most of the presents came from him, but there also gifts from others, all equally adorned with shining paper to hide it's content, only for the person they were for to be seen when they unwrapped them. And so the young prince picked piecer after piece and unwrapped it carefully. All of them different things that made him smile and his eyes shine with joy. When he was at the last present, the biggest one, Thranduil walked closer and kneeled beside him.

 

“Ada, is this from you?” his son looked up at him, waiting for him to answer before he would open the present, yet fingers clearly fidgeting on the surface of the paper.  
  
  
  
“Yes, it is, ion nîn. Go on and open it and see if you like it,” Thranduil said, voice showing little of his own excitement about how his son would react to this very gift; not wanting to give away anything and let his son see for himself.

 

Thranduil's heart speed up watching Legolas carefully unwrap his present and if wanting to savour it he suddenly took his time, but once he had unwrapped it entirely he let out a shriek. Probably higher and louder than Thranduil had ever heard as he suddenly found himself toppled over with two arms full of Legolas who had additionall slung his arms around his neck to hug the air out of his father. He had had hoped his son would enjoy what he got for him, but he hadn't expected this kind of extrem reaction. He didn't mind though, on the contrary, he was glad he seemed to have given him the right thing, if his way of gratitude was anything to go by. When Legolas let go of his father, still refusing to rise though, he smiled from one pointy ear to another as he stated, “A bow and arrows. Thank you, ada.” A quick kiss on his cheek followed.

 

“You are most welcome, dear. Have I known how long you have wanted them. And now that you are old enough for this, I thought this would be the appropriate gift. I take you like them?”, he asked teasingly.

 

“Like? You must be joking, ada, I love them”, Legolas' reply letting no doubt on who his father is -if anyone else had been here with them they would've figured that right away- he's got quite  the quirky mouth on him already, much to the amusement of his father.

 

It wasn't before afternoon that father and son left the room, Legolas yet again on his way to the gardens, this time dragging Thranduil after him.

 

“What's the hurry, little one?”

 

Legolas didn't answer, but just kept his father along, and Thranduil kept following clearly enjoying the level of excitement his son was showing about trying out his bow. It was so precious. Definitely a moment Thranduil would never forget. Arriving in the garden Legolas let go of his hand and run to the area where he  usually watched others elves, fascinate how well they were doing with bow and arrow. He intended to become as good as them, better even. A trait like his father's, he aimed for the best and wouldn't settle for less.

 

“Watch me, ada,” the elfling exclaimed loudly and made his first attempts, which weren't exactly the best, but also not the worst either. But that didn't bother him, not right now anyway, he was way too happy to finally have gotten what he begged his father for so long. Only, before he always had been told when time is due he would be getting what he wished for. And now, today, that time has finally arrived.  
  
  
  
Thranduil lost count of time he sat there on a bench watching his son being happy about every little improvement.  
  
  
  
“One day he will make a excellent archer,” Thranduil didn't need to look up to know who took residence beside him on the bench. For a moment Feren had watched them from inside, but something had pulled him outside.  
  
  
  
“Yes, of that I am sure,” Thranduil replied, sounding a little off, lost in thought. Legolas was quite a quick leaner he remarked for himself, he knew he will turn into a great warrior with unmatched archery skills and one day he also would be a great king. His face falters a little at the latter thought and also at the prior. He didn't want to think of the time his son would be a grown up, ready to take care of himself, perhaps not being in need of his father looking out for him anymore. He was aware that this time coming was inevitavble, he just hoped this time wouldn't come too fast. That he would be allowed to watch out and take care of his little leaf for some longer, till the end of all days if he had any say in it.

 

Wordlessly, because this moment was rich even without words, both elves remained sitting on the bench, just taking in the silence and watching an beyond excited elfling being nothing but that: an elfling enjoying his childhood.

 

Later, much later, when they had finished dinner together and it was bedtime for Legolas Thranduil brought him to his room, where Legolas would tell him again how thankful he is for his father's gift, as well as for all the others and that this was one of the best days of his young life. Thranduil looked at him with something like admiration; so young and sounding so wise already. He couldn't wish for a better child, slowly tears filled his eyes, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't will them away. Of course this was not going unnoticed by his son.

 

“Ada?” he carefully asked, looking a little puzzled as his father looked at him and more tears filling his eyes. Legolas could not know the origin of his ada's tears, he probably was too young for that, but he didn't like seeing his father sad, much less crying.

 

“Are you sad, ada?” he asked, hesitation clear in his voice and Thranduil wished he hadn't shed these tears that confused his son. He didn't want to confuse him, Legolas, of course could't know that.

 

 

“No, ada is not sad, far from it. And I can assure you, my sweet, I enjoyed this day very much. I brought much joy to me to watch you enjoying your gifts”, Thranduil said and pressed a kiss to his son's temple, who obviously wasn't satisfied with his answer, so he asked further.

 

“But then...why were you crying, ada, when you were not upset?” and new tears wanted to make their way into his eyes and down his cheeks, but he fought them back, his son's care just too much for him right now, with the thought of earlier still running through his mind.

 

“You are still young, my son, still have lots to learn ahead of you, also that the nature of tears does not always have to be a bad one. You know, we also cry from happiness or when something, or someone is amazing us beyond believe, such as you do. You amaze me day by day more,” Thranduil smiled fondly at his son, pushing a stray strand behind his son's ear and before his son could come up with the question why he amazed his father he continued, “you amaze me because even though you are so young, still an offspring, but at times you sound so wise, so smart already. You will become a noble one, I can see that clearly,”

  
Legolas beamed. “I love you, ada,” he said, not knowing what else to say to what his father just said to him, just going by instinct alone.

 

  
“I love you, too, my little leaf”, Thranduil gave his son another kiss on the temple and squeezed tight, “now go to sleep, dear. You might be a young prince, but also a prince needs their rest, besides it was quite an eventful day for you”. He then rose from the bed and took the blanket to cover his son with it.

 

“Good night, ada. And thank you, again, I adore what you gave me, so much.” Legolas said, beaming at hos bow and arrows, which were lying secured on the table a bit away from his.

 

“Good night, ion-nín. You do not need to thank me, seeing you enjoying all of it is more than enough for me,” and it honestly was.  

 

Thranduil then left for the door. He hesitatet a moment before he opened the door to leave.  


Before he closed the door he saw his son immediately had rolled onto his favourite site to sleep on and it made him smile. He remembered, one night when Legolas wasn't feeling well he kept walking to his room throughout the entire night, to see if he needed anything, which wasn't the case, but everytime he would do so to check for his wellbeing, he would find him sleeping in the same position. He has no explanation why it made him smile it just did. Just as everything else about his son put a smile onto his face. And once more he feels how lost he would be without him.

 

He keeps him alive.

He makes his days shine bright.

He makes him smile.

He is his everything and without his everything he would be nothing.

 

 

“Never will I let anything happen to you,” he quietly whispered as he looks at the sleeping figure of his son, and squishes another tear as he closes the door.


End file.
